Prayers for Strength
by sapereaude13
Summary: Missing scene - Yuna's conflicting thoughts upon her arrival at Macalania Temple. Could she turn her back on these people? But could she in good conscience marry a murderer?


It would be a shame to never see Lake Macalania or the beautiful temple there again. The hymn had never sounded so haunting to Yuna's ears. In Besaid, she'd merely grown accustomed to the sound of the fayth there, and in Kilika and Djose there had been power and strength in the sound of it. But here, with the piercing chill of the air, the fayth's voice rang out clear. Perhaps it was the stark quiet of Macalania that made the hymn seep into her bones, infusing her with its lonely melody.

Perhaps, too, it was the knowledge of what she had to do here. The Guado were treating her with reverence, offering her a sedan chair that had belonged to Lord Jyscal. She'd declined, choosing to walk the path to the temple with little fanfare. And if the Guado knew how their beloved Lord Jyscal had died, they might be in a different mood.

She'd been given a wrap for her chilly shoulders and walked alongside the older Guado, Tromell. The man had been talking the entire journey, regaling the group with stories of Maester Seymour's childhood. Each story nearly froze her in place like one of the dangling icicles that ringed the road to the temple. They spoke of marriage preparations and of Lady Yunalesca and Lord Zaon. Yuna remained silent.

None of the Guado would dare enter the Cloister of Trials. Though their conversion to Yevon's teachings was more recent than others, their devotion was unquestioned. She could confront Maester Seymour privately. But what would she say? Ever since she'd seen the sphere, she knew she had to do something. But what? A mere summoner on pilgrimage chastising a maester of Yevon?

The temple doors opened, and the Guado ushered her inside. Already it seemed that the temple knew what was going on. Musicians played and parishioners smiled as she entered. Her own smile in return was forced.

"Lady Yuna," one of the nuns said. "You honor us. Would you like to rest before entering the cloister?"

It would give her time to gather her thoughts, and though the temple was bustling with people, she could not spot Maester Seymour amongst them. She nodded. "Yes, I would like that very much." Tromell smiled happily as the nuns escorted her to one of the rooms just off the main temple hall.

Some younger children were playing, but the nuns quickly escorted them out. One little girl beamed at her as she was leaving. "Lady Yuna's going to marry our priest!" Yuna felt her heart twist – the hope that a marriage to Lord Seymour would bring…could she turn her back on these people?

But could she in good conscience marry a murderer?

Her head ached at the thought of either scenario. She longed for the others, wishing for Lulu's counsel, Sir Auron's wisdom…and Tidus' smile. They'd know what to do, wouldn't they? But this had to be her burden. Dealing with Seymour was going to be a dangerous undertaking – she couldn't risk having the others excommunicated. Not like Rikku would mind, she thought with a sad smile.

She sat on the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly. There was a small icon portrait of her father mixed in with the children's toys. Clearly, her arrival had interrupted a history lesson of some sort. Taking the portrait in her hand, she traced her father's face. The artist's rendering was fairly accurate. What would he have done? Not like he would have had to worry about getting married to a maester of Yevon – but corruption in leadership…would her father have made the same choices she was making now?

There was a gentle knock at the door and before she could do anything about it, Lord Seymour had already let himself in. She rose to her feet slowly, knowing that her bag with Lord Jyscal's sphere was just a few paces away. Should she show it to him? Ask for his side of the story? Or would she wait until they reached Bevelle and show it to Maester Mika? Surely, the wedding would take place there…

"I hope that you have been made comfortable here," Seymour said, that unsettling tone in his voice leading her to clasp her hands together in front of her to keep them from shaking.

"Yes, Macalania is a beautiful place. The hymn is especially gratifying to hear. It's very soothing," she replied quietly, her heartbeat quickening as he approached. Her breath caught in her throat as he loomed over her. He was so tall…and his foot was right beside her bag. Did he know about the sphere?

"I am fond of Guadosalam, but I find it far more peaceful here. The cool air keeps the smell of the Farplane away." She kept her eyes level with his chest as he set his hands upon her shoulders. "But I know how important your pilgrimage is. I would be a poor imitation of Lord Zaon if I did not escort you personally to the cloister. I will wait outside…please, take all the time you need."

Already, he was pulling her along and away from the room. His proximity was the wrong kind of intoxicating, and she felt dizzy from his closeness. This man murdered his father and acted as though nothing were the matter. He spoke of marriage and Lord Zaon when his father's sphere lingered in the bag now abandoned in the other room. She was halfway up the stairs to the cloister, the surprisingly crowded temple cheering them as they proceeded. She couldn't go back for the sphere, there was no time…

"Maester Seymour," she muttered. "My bag, I wanted to show you…"

His grip seemed to tighten on her arm as he escorted her to the chamber entrance. If the parishioners and Guado below had noticed, they didn't seem to think anything was amiss. "My lady, you must focus on your prayers now."

Her reply was drowned out by the clapping of the appreciative audience, and the pair of them entered the cloister. The parishioners were muted, and the hymn filled her ears once more, the sound even more haunting now that she'd entered the inner sanctum. She could say nothing – it was too late. She wouldn't dare say anything until she prayed for the aeon's strength.

He led her to the door. "I hope that you are not weakened too much by Shiva. I have found her to be gentler to the summoners that visit us here than those at other temples. But you may rest here as long as you like if you need to recover."

She merely nodded, longing to be away from him to seek solace in her prayers to the fayth. His hand was still possessively upon her arm, and she wondered if he would dare follow her into the chamber. What other sins would he dare commit while outwardly playing at faithful maester? "I wish to pray."

He did not release her. "Our marriage will make Spira stronger, Lady Yuna. I know it has all been sudden, but I am hoping it will not be an unhappy union..."

His long fingernails were teasingly digging into her flesh now, daring her to say something. How far would she let this charade progress? If she had no time to speak with Maester Mika before the wedding, would she have to...?

"Would it be untoward to seek a kiss from you?"

She looked up in surprise. His lips were quirked, and his eyebrows were raised in curiosity. Had he seen through her all along? Was he trying to see how far she would go? Biting her lip, she knew the last thing she wanted was to feel this man's kiss. But she didn't have the sphere, and thus little against him. But she still had Yevon, and he'd been nothing but a dutiful priest since her arrival.

"Maester Seymour," she replied, trying to keep the terror from her voice. Perhaps he thought her more embarrassed than frightened. "I would rather save that for our wedding day. It would be irresponsible for a summoner and maester to behave improperly. We must be role models for Spira, correct?"

He released her. "Of course, how rude of me. Please, I've kept you too long." She tried to back up as slowly as she could although she wanted to run as far from Seymour Guado as she possibly could. She bowed, offering him Yevon's prayer before returning back to the cold air and down the slippery path to where Shiva awaited her.

The inner sanctum was nearly overwhelming with its music, her heart still pounding from the encounter with Seymour. All she could do now was pray – for the aeon's strength and for some of her own.


End file.
